Statcounter

Category: World Building

Well, almost. I am waiting on a little information from a friend who’s PC became, in my very first campaign, a god in his own right, stealing it from the main villain. Until i’m provided with the information relevant to creating that god in a manner both pleasing to me and to the player, I’m going to forge on ahead, diving a little deeper into the character, function, form and personality of each of the gods and accursed.

There are a few changes I’ve made here to the initial entries of some of the gods and accursed, and their are bound to be even more. What I’ve done is create the skeleton, the character sheet, if you will, of each. Now, what I desire to do is go back through and scour each of them. I want to correct errors, move entries to where they are more appropriate, and maybe even cull portfolios all together. There are a number of concepts, both initial and detailed, that may have been either overlooked or overdone in the first pass that really need a fresh look after the pressure of creating, detailing and formulating all 33 entities in the Pantheon. This includes, but is not limited to:

Death – There seem to be an overabundance of deities that deal with death, but in minor and subtle ways.

Elemental Family – Each being belongs to an elemental family

North v. South. I have a concept where the Paltonarchs are represented by more northern animals, and the Accursed by more tropical. I want to look in and flesh this one out.

Interactions among members of the “court” – I didn’t have a place or concept about the interactions.

Many of these are, again, first or second passes that I am fleshing out even deeper and with greater accuracy. Where what I have done to date with this was to create the character sheet, I’m now looking to put more flesh and bones around it, the background, if you will. Hopefully, this endeavor will take much less time and I will be able to do multiple per week, with a goal of four each Monday, especially with GOT off air now.

Like the other gods in this last stretch, Marija requires a tiny bit of information. He was once one of the most powerful gods, and one of the first. Spawned directly from nature, Marija was powerful from the outset. However, recently transpired events culminated in his death. He was baited to the earth by some force, none know what, and then, in powerful ritual, corrupted. Gestril was sent by Takkannas to deal with the problem, but Gestril became infected with the same corruption. during the combat. Something happened, and nearby heroes were imbued with the essence of Gestril who aided and guided them into confronting Marija. Through an epic battle, the Corrupted God was defeated, and Gestril, through his essence imbuing the killer, absorbed his domains. Now, with Marija dead, there are two separate groups of followers. Those fanatics who still worship Marija, and are being granted power from something, though no one knows what, and those who have switched over to the worship of Gestril, even though his is lost and fragmented in the ether.

Major Domains: Nature, Grains, Harvest

Minor Domains: Animals, Husbandry, Domestication

Totem Animal/Warform: Tiger ( The warform is made of flames and ash, with eyes of purple flames and stripes of black and orange flames)

Holy Symbol: A blackend, stone fist clutching an Oak Tree

Favored Appearances: When Marija lived, he favored simple, peasantish appearances. Most often, he was a strong, tanned farmer with broad, weathered features, including his hazel eyes and his sun-bleached hair. He was never extremely attractive or extremely ugly. He greeted everyone with a wide, open smile that radiated from his entire body. He exuded simple, balanced, and naturalistic life.

His female form was a similar style body, broad, strong, and without flair. She, too, had broad features, weathered and worn by the sun and years of work. Her eyes were green, and her short hair bleached blonde by the sun.

Personality: Marija was the god of agriculture and cared for many races., giving them the methods, means and training to live in a civilized society. He cared, as well, for the balance of nature and its caretakers, and was one of the most active Paltonarchs on Kasan. There were a number of races that saw him as their patron, having given them methods to survive in the darkest of times. Though he showed goodwill to all those who respected his lessons and teachings, his wrath was terrifying when roused. Nothing got him more riled than the defilement of natures spaces or the overworking of the land in any way.

Teachings: Marija was the god on the boundaries of civilization, both wrathful and giving. He taught proper land management, careful husbandry, and beneficial harvesting techniques. He believed quite sternly in the balance between the natural world, and the civilized one, creating a confusing web of rituals, observances, and taboos that kept that delicate balance. This same balance was carried over to that of the herds of sheep, elk, and other domesticated animals he watched over. Balance in all things natural can very well be considered among his prime teachings.

following on that is his insistence on humility. Taking what you need, and no more, both from other people and from the land and animals around you.

Abode: When Marija lived, his home was a great Iron forest in the middle of the Iron Marches, called the Rolling Grove, bordering on the conflicted lands in the center. Though he held no specific home, he had many places where he could shelter to sleep and to hold audience with those who sought him out.: Great halls within the trees to fit hundreds and caves and hollows large enough to fit only him.

Clergy: His priests were, and some still maintain, the main functionaries who give blessing to a harvest, a hunt, or a herd. They were also the ones who made petitions when drought, plague, famine and other tragedy befell an area. They would beseech the proper gods in the name of Marija for reprieve and perform the proper sacrifices, when necessary, to grant the good favor again. Often, the Clerics would be asked to Sanction a logging operation, mine or other expedition into the wilderness to prove that Marija was not against them.

Knightly Order: Long ago, a princess of an unknown land sought out and courted him. He was immediately smitten. She was mortal, however, and his devotion to balance required him to let her die a natural death. However, she bore him two daughters, Messara, the eldest, and Keimoa, the younger who were able to shift between a Tiger and a Humanoid form at will. Blessed by their father, they created the Wild Wardens, a dedicated force to both teaching humans respect of the natural world, and enforcing punishment when they do not.

Clerical Attire: Unsurprisingly, the god of nature prefers dull browns, russet reds and strong greens. Many of his followers wear dyed leathers with embossed leaves and plant heraldry on it, with different plants signifying dedication and position within the clergy.

Followers: Often Druids, some fighters, and many rangers were among the most devout worshipers of Marija. Now, rangers chiefly stick with the faith, relying on little more than their prowess at arms.

As with Lobos before him and Marija After him, Telaxus has a little bit of background I need to go over. He is a terrible being of evil, through and through, and for that he had a coalition of gods trap him in an ornate jambiya locked him away for, what they thought was all eternity. Instead, of course, he exerted his influence and an unknown person found the knife and brought it to the world. There, it feel into the hands of a group of adventurers who I was DMing, and through their very actions (and inaction) they freed the god of Sacrifice, torture and murder from his god-created prison. though it involved the self-sacrifice of one of the player characters, Uplik, he was resurrected by Telaxus immediately to serve as his high priest, where he has served admirably ever sense.

Telaxus, God of Sacrifice

Other Titles: Murderking, The One Who Wants Death, Bloodseeker

Alignment: LE

Weapon: Jambiya

Major Domains: Murder, Sacrifice, Torture

Minor Domains: Punishment, Prisoners, Slaves

Totem Animal/Warform: Jackal (the warform is composed of magma and soot, with burning teeth and a tail that vanishes in the wind)

Holy Symbol: A thin, skin choker, dyed blood red.

Favored Appearances: Almost universially, the forms of Telaxus are dark, brooding and full of menace. While there are others in the pantheon who wish to be among the people of Kasan, Telaxus is not one of them. Where he walks, strife and pain follow. his curly, dark hair frames a round, dark face bearing multiple angry scars and angry read eyes. He is of average height, if not a shade taller, and his build belies not that of a warrior, but a well fed and strong farmer. He often wears a dark and long robe with a broad hood and a vest of red and black. He carries his jambiya with him at all times.

His female form is that of an elf, many times, with dark skin and harsh features. Her long, dark curly hair frames a face that wears a perpetual frown that bleeds into her eyes and even her posture, creating a hostile demeanor. to any and all around her. She, too, wears a dark robe, hood and vest with a jambiya on her hip at all times.

Personality: Telaxus is a violent loner, prone to lashing out at those around him but easily appeased with gifts and offerings. His favored music is the screams the the tortured and the damned, reaching his ears across the cosmos. Though he chaffs at the thought of the other gods who thought him to reckless and terrible to be free and trapped him within his prison, he does not hold the grudges deeply. Instead, he focuses on combating the Accursed and their minions in the Iron Marches. On Kasan, however, he takes a much deeper and involved interest, personally leading and recruiting his empires across the world. Though he is newly freed he has, with his archpriest Uplik, gained a strong following in some depraved parts of the world.

Teachings: Telaxus portfolio leads his followers down a dark and sinister path, one covered in the blood of others. Murder is the most basic form of worship to Telaxus, and it is the solution to all the wrongs. Do you want something someone has? Kill them. Has someone wronged you or your family? Kill them. Are there tensions between you and a noble because your sleeping with his wife? Kill them. There is no problem to Telaxus that cannot be solved with a knife between the ribs. Sacrifice, too, is dear to Telaxus, though not just any sacrifice, though it does just fine in a pinch. What pleases most is the sacrifice of intelligent members of the community for a specific goal that seems insurmountable. This piggybacks off of the previous tenant. If there is a problem, kill someone. In addition to killing for gain, he has a very miserable streak when it comes to those who are a problem. Torture, slavery and imprisonment are the favored of many forms of punishment, Telaxus does not shed tears, he sheds blood.

Abode: The Crimson Rampart is one of the foremost bastions of Paltonarch power in the Iron Marches. Both as a newcomer and an unwanted guest, Telaxus lives here, an army of chosen dead filtering both too and from the battlefields of the center of the Marches. It is here that the enemy are brought to be tortured and eventually killed for the information they contain and the deeds they have committed.

Clergy: Priests of Telaxus are not only rare, they are heavily shunned by most of society. Constantly seeking to solve problems with the blood of others, bullying and threatening murder on those who displease them and training in the art of torture has given them a fearsome and deserved reputation.

Knightly Order: The Daughters of Violence are women dedicated to the lord of murder in the most visceral way, wandering from town to town and city to city offering to solve the problems of the community through the violent and bloody solutions their lord offers. Adept at their gods handiwork, they are sometimes the last desperate hope of a failing town.

Clerical Attire: The Clerics and Priests of Telaxus wear the same vestments as their god, a long black robe with a hood and a black-and-red vest. Often they have their Choker prominently displayed but there are times when discretion is the better part of their work.

Followers: Murderers, theives, and outcasts, along with warriors of ill repute and priests who often need to sacrifice to the gods. Executioners, inquisitors and even judges sometimes follow the god of knives.

I like to think I have a signature style of DMing. I build gritty, realistic, low magic worlds that challenge the players both in combat and out. I give the characters plenty of time to shine, but the world isn’t focused on their trials and tribulations. They do many small deeds that become great deeds. This style leads me to dial in on aspects of the game that amplify these effects, including the Climate from last week, humanoid enemies, and the players starting abilities. It will also generally focus on the tales that the characters themselves weave, because they cannot rely on magic abilities, magic items or supernatural powers to get them out of problems.

I’ve often been chided for building worlds for RPGs that have way too much background. However, one of the things I like best about creating the lands and peoples of the worlds I create is knowing that they function well enough, under a little bit of scrutiny, to make sense. When I want my players to believe that their characters are in the middle of a world with Elves, Dragons, Dwarves and Magic Weapons, I have to have a point of reference that makes sense so they don’t have to focus on those.

Before I get started, I wanted to say a few things about the last four gods I am going to write about. These gods: Drakken, Telaxus, Marija and Lobos are each unique, even to the pantheon, and represent either a concept that is unique, or events that transpired due to my players actions in the campaigns I have run. Each of them is going to get a short overview before I launch into the details and try to describe them.

Lobos, the God of Time, is an anomaly in the pantheon in that he is not, truly part of it the way others are. Lobos simply appeared one day, before the Godswar, and spoke his name and title, Lobos, Lord of the Inevitable. He came from beyond time itself, and spoke of residing among them, not as one of the, but of one of them. His demeanor brooked no argument, and his bearing no retort. Since that time he has fought, bleed and supported the Paltonarchs against first the rebels and then the Accursed. There are none among the paltonarchs who would say they know him well, for he has always kept his distance. Aloof and distant from even his fellows, Lobos is an enigma to all.

Lobos, God of Time

Other Titles: The Ineveitable One, The Unending, Outsider, Castellan of Nothingness

Alignment: NE

Weapon: Scythe (Domaragon – “The End of Ages”)

Major Domains: Time, Inevitability, Fate

Minor Domains: Destruction, Aging, Void

Totem Animal/Warform: Frogs (The warform is that of a black, starfilled frog with vast teeth of solidified nothingness, with eyes that see through time in all directions)

Holy Symbol: An hourglass with black sand flowing up instead of down.

Favored Appearances: Lobos, not one to stick with forms and conventions, has a single androgynous form that he uses in every interaction. He is of average height, around 5’8″ and of slender build. He has an extremely angular face, with almond shaped eyes that are completely black. Thin lips, a sharp nose and a high forehead complete the image. He keeps his long, grey-blue hair in a ponytail which often rests over his shoulder and onto his chest. He is neither muscular nor lean, though his pale grey skin often has him perceived as thinner than he is. He is never without his scythe, the great weapon that will destroy time itself at the end of days. Other than that single weapon, however, he is without personal protection or weaponry, wearing instead a peasants clothes of trousers and shirt, with an over-tunic of dark gray, hood pulled over his head to shadow his face.

Personality: Lobos is a loner, keeping his own company and preferring it that way over any. Only his followers and devoted aren’t sent away on their arrival to the Gates of Time. Few Gods, if any, are able to attend him and be welcomed among his small host. Lobos seems often distracted, his mind of in other dimensions and times, seeing both what was, what will be, and what could have been. However, once his mind is fixated on a topic or event, he becomes singularly focused, able to see with great clarity the outcome and how swiftly he can bring it about.

Teachings: There is little joy in the passing of time, and even that little bit is not celebrated by the adherents of Lobos. It is taught that all things pass into oblivion, given enough time, and that the end of all things is the fate of the world. To fight and resist that fate, that great darkness and the void beyond even the war in the Iron Marches, is folly. All things must pass through time, and all things must one day end. Lobos will be there to greet them. The only ending, the only finale, the only way out, is complete, utter and consuming annihilation.

Abode: Even among the gods, Lobos is solitary and prefers the company of himself to that of others. The Gates of Time lie the farthest back on the Paltonarch controlled side of the marches, near the western Unknown Reaches. There, it is said that he sits and contemplates the end of the world and time itself unless called upon by the other gods for aid.

Clergy: The priests and followers of Lobos are responsible for little among the civilized lands of the world, though often in the more savage areas he is revered as a second death god, next to Dagor. Temples of lobos provide no succor to the weak, the infirm or the injured, and provide no asylum or refuge for the poor and weak. Instead, they are warrior-monks, preparing their bodies and their minds for the end times. They train their minds, bodies and souls for that moment that they are pulled away, called to fight the the Last War with Lobos at the head of an army of devoted and fearless warriors. None of his warriors have ever been seen on the Iron Marchs, and it is said that He and all his followers fight a Hidden War against unknown beings of immense power. Though Lobos has seen the end, the failure of the Last War, the Gods and his devotees, he knows it is the only thing that can be done.

Knightly Order:It could be said that all of Lobos followers are a knightly order, but even among those dedicated to a cause, there are those more dedicated. The Knights of Times Eye are those fanatics. armored in dark gray and wielding great scythes of unspeakable power, they seek not to hone their bodies and minds in the rigors of a monastery or a church, but hunting those who would defy the end of time. In a similar vein to the priests of Dagor, the Knights of the Eye hate the undead, but they also hunt those who have defied time in other ways. Immortals, demons, dragons. Beings that simply live for seeming eternities. The Knights of the Eye seek them out and strive to destroy them, both as an act of devotion and as a test to their skills and prowess.

Clerical Attire: Lobos prefers neutral grays and blacks, with the rare white as an accent. Many of his agents sport a hood or color, and a white hood has become a well known symbol of the followers of this faith. Preference is not given for either robes, clothes or any other fashion, though often it is armor that has a need to be dyed, lacquered or other form of stained to denote the faith.

Followers: Few Elves take of the worship of one who hates immortal beings, though some have found their self loathing to be a great fuel for his faith. Warriors and Monks tend to gravitate to following Lobos, though few others do. Mages, sometimes, but only for as long as they can naturally live.

I love 5e, and I don’t think I can state it enough, it has the right blend of balance and character, as well as a system that is reminiscent of the RPG’s I played when I was a kid.

However, as in all things, there are rough patches. 5e has a number of improvements over its 3.5 and 4.0 predecessors, but I have found, in a simple three adventures, that there is one place where it falls hard on its ass. Sadly, this portion of the game is also one that is crucial to a DM and to how the adventure plays out. This simple, integral, vital task is used by every DM and every adventure. I’ll stop playing coy, and just spit it out.

Maltara, God of Disease

Major Domains: Disease, Recovery, ConstitutionMinor Domains:Weeding out the weak, Anatomy, CarrionTotem Animal/Warform: Great Lizard/Monitor Lizards (The Warform is composed of Stone, Wind, Lightning and gems)

Favored Appearances: Maltara tends to walk the world rarely, and when he does it is an ill tiding among many of the peoples of Kasan. Were he travels, disease and death follow, and many do not survive his presence. Those who do describe a particularly horrifying form. His hair is falling out in great patches on his head, leaving the rest of it a patchwork of short dark hair and scabs. His wide, flat face is covered in rashes and blisters, his bloodshot eyes bulge from his head, his teeth are rotten and his breath fetid. The skin on his arms and legs split, oozing a viscus type of ichor that slides down and drips from his fingers and lingers in his footprints. coughs punctuate his sentences and breaths, spreading his captured diseases. His body, no matter the outward signs that it should be on deaths door, is fit and strong. His callused fists are hard as bone and the arms are muscular enough to do significant damage with them. His legs easily gobble up the land in long, powerful strides and grant him surprising agility for a person in his condition.

both forms have the same basic appearance, though he walks the world as a human in his female form and as a halfling in his male. In both forms his preferred garment is that of the robe of his priesthood, a brilliant green and bone. When trying to pass undetected, he walks with the hood up and quietly, though his coughing breaks through. When embodying a plague to walk the lands, he walks with the cowl down, his brilliant yellow eyes betraying his diseased Nature.

Personality: Despite all his appearances and the suppositions many have about him, Maltara is a jovial being. He enjoys talking the finer points of the merits of civilization, the best methods of recovery from illness, and how best to stave off an early grave. Pleasant and charming though he is, he is relentless in his pursuit of a better and stronger world, as he sees it. He desires to infect the world with all the plagues that he can create and foster, so that only the strong survive to worship him. He is ruthless to those he feels are weak, however, and feels no pity or mercy when they die or fail, doing his best to expedite it whenever possible. He does this, as one would expect, through a series of diseases, set up in an order that tests every possible angle of weakness and vulnerability. Those who approach him and survive this ordeal become his most chosen servants. Those who do not are discarded, dying a miserable and terrible death.

Teachings: The body is the door to the soul, and the soul must be strong in order to prevail in this terrible world. You cannot expect the world to be kind to you, so you must be unkind to it back. Maltara is both the god of diseases and the god of recovery from disease, so it is in his ultimate control over who lives and dies from his disease. Most times, however, he will leave it up to your body to determine your fate, and if you were young, old, or infirm, it is extremely likely that you will perish. This is done to make the world a stronger place, one where disease is all pervasive but everyone is strong enough to fight it off.

Abode: Maltara lives in the Deep Fens, on the border with the Accursed territory of the Iron Marches. His army of hearty soldiers and strong, disease ridden veterans are the front line in the battles against the Accursed. Maltara takes a very specific pride knowing that, many times, it is simply him and his hand picked warriors standing between the Accursed and the complete annihilation of the Paltonarchs.

Clergy: The Clerics of Maltara tend to the ill and dying, watching over them when their families will or cannot. Though their god may not assist the diseased, he has no problem with his clerics taking his recovery aspect of his portfolio to heart. What does not kill one, only makes them stronger. Many of his clerics are immune to the plagues that wash over the land, having been exposed to them many times over, though they also tend to breath out the very corruption they seek to save in others. As carriers and healers, they function ans the perfect vessel of paradox as their master. Most Churches of Maltara are located well outside of the towns and cities they serve, keeping their deathly services far from the population at large.

Knightly Orders: The Contagion Legion is a strong and powerful warrior cult centered on the Malataran principle of hearty constitution and infection. The order seeks out orphans and trains them riggorusly in the ways of a strong body, and then when they are strong and fit enough, they expose them to the myriad of contagions that they harbor. Those we are weak either die or are exiled, and In their weakened condition, many of even those who survive to be exiled perish. Those strong enough are welcomed into the legion and are sent on missions vital to the god of Blight.

Clerical Attire/colors: The Clerics of Maltara prefer to wear the colors of their god, a simple and vile green color that evokes illness and bile. These clothes are often trimmed in a bone and cream color around the wrists and cowl, along with parallel stripes running down the center of the chest. Additionally, at the highest of ranks, they will pierce their tongue with a shortened nail to show their dedication to the god. Many die, but those who live are the most vaunted of priests.

Followers: Most of Maltaras followers are priests, able to hold disease at bay or even be completely immune to it. There are a few barbarian tribes and warrior cultures who worship disease, but they are few and far between.

Holy Symbol: A white medallion, with a single cresting wave in the center.

Favored Appearances: Driim is a solitary man, not prone to visiting the material world. However, when he decides to visit, it is generally to wander quietly, escaping the chaos of the Iron Marches.

In his male form, he is round and smooth, a hairless and harmless man. His face is round, with even rounder features. his bulging eyes are creamy white, as if blind, though he seems to see just fine regardless of the light quantity or quality. His cheeks are prominent and round and has a bulbous, pockmarked nose. His chin is swallowed up in his neck, the rolls of fat nearly obscuring it. He wears a meticulously cleaned large, single piece hooded robe, a light nearly white blue. His hood is pulled over his head, his arms crossed within its enormous sleeves and the waist tied under his bulging belly with a white dyed rope. He speaks in riddles and puzzles, as though he knows a great deal more than he lets on. When pressed, he may speak succinctly, but it is never his preferred form and is almost always caustic.

His female form is only slightly less offensive, though this time it pulls in the opposite direction. Still clothed in the blue-white robe, She is hairless and emaciated, bony arms jutting out at sharp angles, with a skeletal face and the same milky white eyes, this time sunk deep into her eye sockets. Her nose is long and also pockmarked, and an angular chin cuts her face sharply off. When she speaks, her fetid breath wafts out, lending all of her speech a final, deathly air.

Personality: Driim is dry and boring, though he loves to deceive people into making a fool out of themselves, calling his mischief simple tricks. Those who are deceived by them are obviously to easily duped. He speaks in riddles and obfuscation, tying his sentences into knots for other to unravel. When crossed and tricked himself, he easily and causally tosses dreadful curses at those who have wronged him, bringing ruin and suffering onto them and their family. He cares not about the collateral damage that he commits, finding it simply the justice that they have brought onto themselves. At his very best, he is secretive and closed. At his worst, he is a devastating deliverer of undeserved curses and unearned misfortune

Teachings: Driim teaches that the world is a dark and terrifying place, and that even in the light of day, there are those who are betrayers and turncoats around every corner. Fool them, make them look like what they truly are. Curse them so that their deeds will reap the repercussions that they so rightly deserve, and keep your secrets dear, for only that which you tell no one is truly safe.

While this seems to embrace a certain state of paranoia, there is an underlying current in the teachings that make it known that these people should be exposed, and that they should, at any chance, be forced into admitting their faults. The moons are always around and know the absolute truths. What they know, Driim knows. Swearing to the Moons is still held to be the most binding of oaths, even though he is an accursed.

Abode: Driim lives in the White Sanctuary, a castle made of marble and alabaster deep within the Accursed territory in the iron marches. Here, his legion of slaves cleans the corrosion of the plane from his walls, scouring away at them night and day. His dedication to maintaining his colors even here is fanatical, even though her rarely entertains visitors.

Cultists: The Cultists of Driim are dour, sour folk who are known to spew curses and diatribes against those who have wronged them. They stick to the edges of society, seldom forming into groups, afraid to reveal their secrets to anyone, even each other. They do like to commit little tricks to flummox the towns and cities they live in, and some towns are said to be moon cursed if they experience to many of these ill fortunes. a Coven of Moon Cultists will conspire to bring down the leader of their town or city, citing him as a false leader and aspiring to replace him with one of their own. They keep well to the shadows, however, secreting their allegiance and their ultimate goal.

Clerical Attire/colors: Simple blue-white robes and clothes are preferred, though they are not required. Some prefer to wear a simple moon disk, but many times they will have the holy symbol on the reverse of an expected and well revered church in the area, as well, defacing and desecrating the symbol.

Followers: Thieves and Wizards, along with Warlocks and barristers all can gravitate towards the worship of Driim. Sometimes, political leaders will fall in with the worship of Driim if only to stay in power and not be supplanted, though it is inevitably only a matter of time.

Favored Appearances: Conadral is a small, hawklike person in both of his favored aspects, and prefers to blend in rather than be noticed. His male form is of average height, around 5’8″, and of an average build. His eyes are a fierce ice blue and set within an a fairly feminine and angled face. His brow is high, as is his cheekbones, but his aquiline nose is his most prominent feature. He keeps his blond hair close cut and is clean shaven at all times. He will generally take the form of a human, but is equally known to be found in elven form.

His favored Female form is that of a human almost exclusively, and looks very similar to the male form, except for the slightly more feminine form and features. The same close cut blond hair, the same ice blue eyes and the same nose. Though many gods forms could be construed as family members, Conadrals forms are as close to twins as it gets. Both forms carry longbows and are excellent shots and hunters as well.

Personality: Conadral lives and breathes for freedom and justice, though he sees much more value in the less combative ways of achieving those goals than his brother Takannas. Instead of violently opposing those who he views as oppressing others, he seeks to educate and elevate those who are being oppressed – a different side of the same coin. He enjoys nothing more than the freedom to do whatever whim strikes him, be it fly the skies, bed a beautiful person, or teach the peasants on a barons farm to read. However, he strives continuously not to step on other peoples freedoms when exercising his own. He values even the most loathsome persons right to do what they want as long as others aren’t harmed int eh process. To many, Conadral is the patient and wise god, one who’s council is sought on many occasions and highly regarded.

For all his values, however, he is a terrifying fighter, a warrior and consummate fighter who has taken the field thousands of times against the demon armies of the Accursed. When all else fails, violence is a completely acceptable answer and it can, and should, be pursued to its fullest end once evoked.

Teachings: The god of the Skies teaches to be open and willing to receive both knowledge and wisdom from all sources, and to be part of the solution when problems arise.. Be a leader in your community and world, break down the barriers between people and create freedom and openness for all. Each day, each cycle, is an opportunity to go out and make a difference in the lives of those around you. Be mindful, however, of their freedoms, and do not overstep your bounds. Offer to help, but take a step back when your help is not needed. Be the person who all can turn to for advice, but tread that knife edge carefully, do not become vainglorious and self-assured. Be humble when leading, and look deeply at the consequences before acting.

Abode: Conadral lives in the Flying Citadel, a simple fortress of ice and wind on an enormous cloud. He can guide it where he is needed most, and his army of flying warriors can descend into a battle to take the fight to the enemy from above. Said to have a hundred spires each with a hundred rooms, it is thought by some to have been created from cloudstuff solidified by elven mages on Kasan and then transported somehow to the Iron Marches for him to live in and wage war from.

Clergy: Clerics of Conadral tend to be a semi-wandering lot, though they will sometimes stay for six or seven years in a single location before moving on. They attempt to inspire and educate the many people that they come across, and when they find somewhere that direly needs their attention, they will set up a permanent abode and live with that community until there is such a time as they feel they no longer rely on him. At that time, he will recruit a young and promising apprentice and move on, leaving the apprentice that had shown up in town with to tend the flock until he, too, feels the call of other lands.

Knightly Orders: One of the great organizations on Kasan, the Blue Knights of Conadral are both feared and revered. They accept only volunteers to their esteemed company, and many are rejected for lack of skill, intelligence and compassion. While they were originally founded to protect sacred sights to the God of the Skies, they have transformed into a powerful fighting force. While they do live, study and train in high peaks and great open plains, they are approachable by any to plead their cause. those causes that are found to be the most worthy and beyond reproach by the High Marshall of the abbey are rewarded with a company of Blue Knights, each supposedly worth more than a hundred other warriors on the fields.

Clerical Attire/colors: Conadrals colors are cream and brilliant blue, and his priests wear little other than a tunic and britches made of the brightest blues, trimmed and rimmed with cream. Many of the highest clerics wear brilliant white caps of various complexity and ornateness to show their status and stature within the church.

Followers: As with the four other elemental gods, Condaral has a broad appeal to mages, warriors and priests. He is also the patron of many craftsmen and merchants for his self-reliance, and to a strong number of peasants and commoners due to his specific teachings.